Ask Me Something (The Something Series Book 2) (11 page)

“Are you willing
to let me be in control in the bedroom?”

“Would it only
be there? I’d resent you if it bled into any other aspect of our lives.”

“Yes. Being
dominant during sex doesn’t mean I wouldn’t respect and value your time or
forget my manners.”

“Would I have to
call you sir?”

“Not my thing.
I’d rather you say my name.”

“What types of
things are we talking? You’re not into painful stuff, right?”

His slow smile made
me shiver. “No, it’s also not my thing, but I do intend to tie you up, and we’d
use toys. Pleasurable things, not painful.”

“But you won’t
allow me ever to be dominant with you sexually?”

“No. We already
went over that.”

“And what if
that is a sticking point for me?” I had to ask.

“Then this isn’t
going to fucking work.” He sat up suddenly, zipping up his shorts.

I propped myself
up on my elbow, watching him. “Wow, bringing that up really pisses you off,
doesn’t it?” I had never seen this side of him.

He cursed softly
and then asked, “Why do you want that?”

“Maybe I want to
be spontaneous and take you in my mouth without permission some morning.”

He muttered
another curse, and his body tensed. “I can honestly say I have no problem with
that. It isn’t all about ruining the spontaneity. But I need you to respect the
fact that I’m in charge in the bedroom.”

“Okay.”

He searched my
eyes, most likely not knowing what I meant by that and kissed me one last time
before leaving.

The next day had
been busy between the wedding shower and a planned shopping excursion for the
women while the men spent most of their day golfing.

At dinner that
evening, all the guests enjoyed a beach cookout and trivia. It was a lot of
fun, especially with the cast of characters in attendance. A number of outgoing
personalities in the crowd made it easy to be one of the quiet ones without
anyone noticing.

After the
parents retired, things got even more entertaining while the alcohol flowed.
Brian was in his element with his friends, and it was easy to see the history
between him, Mark, Josh, and Colby. We all heard lots of stories from college
that made us laugh.

While most of
the men had gone out towards the beach to smoke cigars, the women gathered
around the seated bar area. I stepped up towards the bartender to order another
round of red wine for myself and Catherine when unfortunately the dreaded
sister-in-law, Rebecca, came up to my left side.

She turned her
attention to me, narrowing her eyes. “You’re Sasha, right?”

I braced myself,
thankful I’d been forewarned about the type of person she was. “Yes, and I’m
sorry. Your name?” I pretended not to know.

“I’m Rebecca.
Benjamin’s wife and Brian’s sister-in-law.”

“Ah, yes. Nice
to meet you.”

Haylee walked up
and smiled toward the both of us.

“The shower
today was nice,” Rebecca complimented.

Haylee nodded.
“It was a really great surprise. Josh’s mom went all out with the boat.”

I received the
two glasses of red wine from the bar and was about to return to my table when I
witnessed the next comment out of Rebecca’s mouth.

“It’s too bad we
couldn’t have combined the wedding and baby shower, but I guess you want to
keep up the pretense that one isn’t because of the other,” Rebecca sneered.

Haylee’s smile
faltered. She looked at me, turning pink with embarrassment.

Haylee had
confided in both Catherine and I last week that they were expecting. It hadn’t
been easy to share the private news as she’d been worried about perception. But
Josh had spoken with Catherine and made it clear that although it wasn’t planned,
it was definitely welcome. The fact that Rebecca was implying that Haylee had
trapped a man that so clearly loved her, brought out my protective side. Before
I could stop myself, my entire glass of Pinot Noir was splashed on Rebecca’s
beige dress. “Oops.”

She gasped.
“You—you did that on purpose,” she accused, looking at the damage.

“Why would I
ever do something so mean-spirited on purpose?” I feigned innocence.

My eyes met
Haylee’s while I waited for permission to either let Rebecca have it or wait
for Haylee to do so. I was delighted when she was more than happy to stand up
for herself.

“You know,
Rebecca, if you can’t get that stain out in your room, I’d be happy to talk to
my fiancé about getting you an earlier flight home. But if you think you can
possibly be more careful next time, maybe there’s hope you can stay for the
wedding, after all.”

The message was
clear, and when Rebecca huffed, stomping away towards her room, Haylee and I
both burst into giggles.

Catherine joined
us, looking toward the retreating woman. “What did I miss?”

Haylee looked
between us both and grinned. “You missed a waste of a good glass of red wine.”
She filled her in, and then we all started laughing.

I’d never been
so grateful for female friends who built one another up instead of cutting
others down.

It was past
midnight when the last of the partygoers headed back to their rooms. I’d barely
made it in my own door when my desk phone started ringing.

“Hello,” I
answered.

“Hey, you sound
out of breath.” Brian’s voice came from the other end of the line.

“I just got to
my room.” Taking a seat on the bed, I slipped off my shoes.

“Sorry. I’m
impatient.”

“Did you want to
come over?” I was anxious to have him all to myself after a day of only being
able to watch him.

“Uh. Probably
not the best idea. We’ve both been drinking, and I don’t trust myself around
you at the moment.”

I sighed heavily.
“That’s too bad.”

“Tell me about
it.”

“I know we
haven’t officially started our arrangement, but I do want to ask some questions
about your history.” I slipped off my bra from under my dress and lay on the
bed, now feeling more comfortable.

“All right. You
can have six questions. But then remember I get the same number.”

That sounded
reasonable. “How many relationships have you had like this?”

I heard him sigh
and realized talking about this wasn’t something he was entirely comfortable
doing.

“None like this,
Sasha. But if you’re talking about arrangements in which there were some type
of rules, then I’ve done four others.”

“Okay, and how
long did they last?”

“Is this
question two?”

Crap, my
curiosity was eating at me. “Yes.”

“The longest was
five months. Most were, uh, month-to-month type things.”

“How did you
discover you, uh, like to be in control in the bedroom?”

“Question
three?”

“Okay, yes, why
not? Question three.” To hell with it, I needed to know some things.

“I met a woman
who wanted me to be, uh, dominant with her. At first I thought it was only to
turn her on, but then I realized it came naturally to me and I enjoyed it.”

“But you’re not
dominant outside of the bedroom.” This was the part I was having a hard time
fully understanding. Brian was the fun-loving, jokester who could always get
along with everyone because he wasn’t interested in pissing matches. What he
was describing was the exact opposite of that type of personality, the
laid-back easy-to-get-along-with guy.

“We’ve been
through this, Sasha.”

Yes, we had.
“You go while I think of my final three.”

“Okay, question
one is how often do you masturbate?”

I definitely wasn’t
a prude by any stretch, but no one had posed this question before. “Uh, when
necessary.”

“Specifics and
honesty,” he reminded.

I blew out a
breath. “Probably, once a month.”

“With your hands
or vibrator?”

I never thought
I’d see the day where I’d be shocked at something Brian asked me. “Battery
operated.”

He chuckled,
most likely because I was stuttering with my answers. “Do you come easily from
it?”

“Are we doing
phone sex?” Because all of a sudden I was feeling pretty hot and bothered.

“Honey, if you
ever need to ask that question, then the answer is no. Now, do you orgasm with
your battery-operated device?”

“Most of the
time, yes.”

“And are the
orgasms better with the vibrator or the men you’ve been with?”

“Question four?”

“Yes. Are you
going to answer?”

Considering my
best orgasms had been with him, I didn’t say anything specific. “Definitely a
man over the device.”

“What did he
do?” His voice was low, and I was wishing I had brought said device with me.

“He, uh, used
his hand.” I wasn’t ready to admit it was him, doing it over my clothing and
against the couch in his basement. Then it would be obvious how pathetic my
previous sex life had been.

“We’ll have to
work on your dirty talk, honey. What about when he went down on you?”

Jesus, now I’d need
a cold shower. “No, he, uh—We didn’t do oral.”

“His loss.
Please tell me it wasn’t the ex-boyfriend from high school who you saw when you
went home?”

“We went over
this last night. High school boys don’t give girls orgasms, let alone the best
one of their lives.”

He laughed.
“Good point. Are you ready to say yes to me?”

“It’s not like I
want to say no. And even if I did say yes tonight, you still won’t come up
here. Either way you’re making me wait.”

“So you’re delaying
your response because I’m postponing when we’d start?” There was a slight edge
to his voice.

“No, but if I’m
being honest, I’m not sure it’s in my personality to be submissive.”

“I’m not asking
you to be submissive as much as I’m asking for you to give up control sexually
and give yourself over to me. There isn’t anything I would do that you wouldn’t
enjoy.”

Simply thinking
about it had me aroused. “Okay, my final three questions. You mentioned tying
me up in previous conversations. Tied up how?” I’d never been bound before, and
it made me a little nervous.

“Hands together
or feet to the bed.”

Hm, that didn’t
sound too bad. “And no pain? I mean no whips or that kind of stuff?”

“No whips or
pain. I’m not into it. You’ll have to decide if you like the soft stuff like
spanking.”

“Okay, and the
last question is: Would we use condoms or what?” There. I’d put it out there.

“Are you on the
pill?”

“Yes, the shot.
But, uh, are you clean?”

“Of course I
am.” He sounded irritated.

“Hey, don’t get
annoyed. You’re the one having sex with women who are clearly a little more adventurous
than I am.”

“Fair enough,
but I’ve never not worn a condom. I’d like to not use them with you. I’m
clean.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously
you’re shocked I’m clean, or are you surprised you’re the only woman I trust
not to wear one with?”

“You know I
meant about never having worn them before. Is it my inability to get kids to
like me that enables you trust me?”

His tone turned
serious. “We’re friends and colleagues, Sash, and I know you’re not trying to
trap a man to take care of you.”

I scoffed at the
very notion.

He laughed.
“See, the very idea doesn’t compute. If you want to swap medical records, we
can.”

“I trust you
more than anyone else I know. If you say you’re good, I believe you.”

“I trust you,
too. I guess that’s what makes this strange going into it. We aren’t trying to
get to know one another. We’re more nervous about losing what we already have.”

“You weren’t worried
before. You are now?”

“Please don’t
take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly flexible when it comes to
forgiving people. I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t think at some point
I would screw something up. I can only hope that we can give each other a
learning curve.”

I tried not to
take it personally. He wasn’t wrong. Exhibit A: I was still holding a grudge
against my sister. Ironic, considering I wasn’t the type of girl who made a
good first impression, which meant I needed second chances myself. “You know
that I’ll most likely mess it up first.”

“Doubtful. Do
you think you can maybe learn to be a little more, uh, flexible?”

“Is that a
double entendre?”

“Without even
trying,” he deadpanned. He laughed, and then I did too. “What you need to do is
learn to be a little more relaxed. Take off the pencil skirt and let your hair
down, so to speak.”

“Considering I’m
at a wedding for my boss’s boss with my supervisor and other people I respect,
it’s sorta hard to do that.” Yes, I was kind of reserved. So what?

“Mm hm. Nice
excuse. We could be anywhere, with strangers, friends, wherever, and you’d
never do anything out of your safe zone.”

“I went speed
dating with Catherine. That was way outside the perimeter of my comfort zone.”

“I can only
imagine, but I’m talking about doing something on a whim. Like getting up and
singing karaoke or skinny-dipping. I bet you’ve never done either of those
activities.”

“You’re right. I
haven’t,” I conceded. With my history, the very thought of putting myself out
there on purpose for people to judge petrified me.

“Promise me if
you ever decide to do something crazy, that I’ll be around for it. It would be
a sight to behold to watch you let your hair down.”

Somehow, I was
suddenly inspired, with the wine and vodka fueling my adrenaline and overriding
the conservative part of my brain that was protesting. “It’s your lucky night,
then, because I’m about to do one of those things. And here’s a hint: it isn’t
singing.”

***

By the time I
made it down to the shoreline and looked around, I’d completely chickened out.
Someone could see me, there could be sharks, I’d have to shower afterwards, and
last, but not least, my excuse was something along the lines of how ridiculous
it was to do something like this without anyone else daring you. Wasn’t that
the whole point of doing stupid things? Good grief. Then I turned and saw Brian
standing there smirking.